Remember how I said that there would be two more chapters... I lied, sorry! Wolflehr helped me with this idea, which I turned into another chapter. Big thanks to him for the help and the idea of having Steve join the Delta Force. I don't really have an idea of how these guys train, other than the basics. So sorry if I seriously messed it up, but I tried! This chapter leads up to the next one. Part 3 will be the last of Steve's chapters, I guarantee. So two more after this one. I decided to give you guys a break from the majority of the feels until next chapter. Alright, this one is kind of a placeholder and is shorter, but I hope that you all enjoy! Thanks for reading, as always :). Next update will most likely be next weekend (sorry!), unless I can get it up sooner; but school is kicking my butt right now.

I don't own Marvel of these characters.

"Romanton! Get your ass up and haul it!" The loud voice shook Steve from whatever state he had fallen into and grabbed the rope in front of him. Even with wet and muddy hands, he climbed it easily and hauled himself over the adjacent wall. His boots crunched against the ground as he jumped off and landed at the end of the course. Taking a second to catch his breath, he adjusted the large combat vest over his chest.

The training wasn't as hard for him as it was for some guys, but it was definitely still tough. Nothing like the 40s or even what SHIELD had been training. All of that exercising was mainly indoors. This conditioning was all outdoors, to prepare them for the real missions that they would have to face. He was in training for the force, as the guys called it, or "delta force" as everyone else referred to. It was tougher that the Army and didn't have as much water training as the SEALs did, which Steve had always had problems with. Maria had provided him with falsified records saying that he served in Iraq, and with passing the ranger test, he was allowed to train for the force. Even though it wasn't strictly lying that he served; he had, just not in Iraq, he felt slightly uneasy. But the call to action and protecting people wiped out any uneasiness as more training and small missions were completed.

He had committed the details to his "service" to memory, so it was almost as if he had served.

"Dude, how in the hell did you finish so quickly?" a voice came from behind him, causing Steve to smirk and smile. The only friend that he had made in training; Kyle Hall, was standing next to him, breathing heavily from just finishing the course. "I swear, I'd rather have another mission than go through this every single day."

Steve gave a short chuckle as the commander marked them off and they were allowed to return to their tents. He and Kyle were bunkmates, part of the reason why they had grown so close. They leaned on each other through the training and were always able to pass jokes back and forth to each other. They just fit.

Kyle was thirty-four years old, and had served two tours, being dispatched in various locations around the globe. Suffering from a slight case of PTSD, like many of the other men, he felt that being around the guys and fighting did something to ease his mind. He had a wife and a small family back home in Kansas, where they worked the farm.

Steve couldn't help but feel a connection to Kyle from his similarities to Clint. Humorous, family on a farm, light brown hair and laughing eyes. Sometimes it was a comfort to see his old friend in his new one. Other times it just brought back the memories.

He still hadn't let it slip about his actual identity. Whenever he woke up from a nightmare, he blamed it on Iraq and told Kyle to go back to sleep. But he could sense that his friend was getting suspicious. The nightmares were too common, and he often woke up shivering, something that he had no control over. He did, however, learn how to control himself from waking up and screaming. That was a relief.

Steve opened the flap to the tent and followed Kyle in, taking off his vest and laying it on the floor by his bed as he did so. His entire body was covered in a layer of mud, including his hair. His face had always remained clean-shaven. It made him look more like Steve Rogers, but it was a habit that he didn't know how to kick. It was how he looked way back in the forties, and frankly, he thought a beard looked strange on him.

"Debriefing at eighteen-hundred," Kyle relayed. "Giving us some time to clean ourselves up I guess. How nice of them."

"Real nice. If they just hadn't let us get dirty in the first place now…" Steve trailed off, smirking as he rummaged through his locker to get a clean pair of clothes.

"Did you sign up for the force or not? Dude, you're gonna get dirty. I could always smear some grease on your face or something. Make you look like one of those soldier badasses from the movies," Kyle laughed back.

"I know, I know. Come on, you ready? Those showers fill up quick."

After they had showered, Steve noticed Kyle's eyes lingering on his neck. More precisely, the chain where his dog tags hung. Hidden among the pressed metal, however, was a small spider charm. It was his way of keeping her close. A simple silver spider with a red hourglass on one side. He had thought about making the spider black, but that would have been too obvious.

They made it back to the tent at seventeen-hundred and threw on a pair of clean clothes. It was silent, which was odd. There was normally some amount of talk going on.

"They must all be getting cleaned up," Steve said, taking note of how Kyle appeared to be listening for guys around and next to the tent. The man's eyes settled on his and for a brief second, he saw a flash of recognition. Everything inside of Steve tightened up and his body became as taut as a bowstring. Did Kyle know? What would he say if he did? Would it really be that awful if his one friend knew the truth?

What Kyle said next cemented the fear into his mind. "How long has it been?"

Since what? Steve's mind reeled at the question. What was Kyle looking for?

"Since what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Since you lost her," was his simple reply. His eyes were trained on the tags that disappeared underneath Steve's shirt.

Chances were that he knew. He was just looking to see if Steve would give him an answer or not. "Or is she not really gone?" he finished, eyes drifting up to Steve's. They were a mix of both wonder and confusion. Somehow, Steve knew that he couldn't lie to him. Natasha had always told him how terrible of a liar he had been anyways.

"No, she's gone. Two years. Three months. Nine days," he replied softly.

"Jesus," Kyle whispered. "How-"

"Three gunshot wounds to the abdomen. I tried to help, but she was already too far gone. She died in my arms. Bleeding out into the snow. Nothing I could do," Steve took a deep breath, watching the footage play before his eyes just as it had every single day after her death. He could see his hand numbly picking up a pen and writing the mission report. The black lines that had proven to himself and to the agency that the Black Widow was dead. "We were tracking rebels. They set up a trap. We got caught fighting them in a snowstorm and got separated. Simple as that."

"So, the nightmares. Not from Iraq, like you've been telling me then, right?" Kyle pressed. Steve shook his head in response. "Why lie? You look like Captain America. Hell, you act like him too. I've heard you curse probably twice this entire time. All of my swearing could have paid for a trip to Hawaii for my family back home in the swear jar."

"If I went back into service, I didn't want people looking up to me like the hero everyone thinks I am. I didn't want that responsibility again, and that makes me a coward, I know that. But that amount of weight on my shoulders got every single one of my team members killed. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you guys here looked up to me and I got even one of you killed. No one else can die because of me."

Kyle was listening intently, sitting on the edge of his cot looking over at Steve. "Look, I've known since week two of training. When you stopped you own run to pull James to his feet after he fell. I'm sure I'm not the only guy here who knows it, either." Steve shrunk. Was he really that bad at keeping his identity a secret? He could only imagine the laughs that Clint and Nat were sharing.

"But we haven't said anything. You know why? Not cuz we don't want to embarrass you or don't want your leadership, which I'm sure is amazing. Coming out here in itself is a testament to who you are. You've been fighting all your life. You lose something, take a few years off, and go right back into the fray to protect your country again. You truly are one of a kind, and it is an honor to serve beside you."

Steve was at a loss for words. The fact that Kyle was not angry with him for lying was taking up most of his thoughts. He was accepting of Steve's reasons for his actions and genuinely believed him, which was somewhat surprising.

"Why do you look so dumbfounded? It's not that hard to understand!" Steve looked to him, expecting an answer. "Look, I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you. Hell, you're probably younger than I am! And you've been through so much. Last of the Commandos, last of the Avengers…"

"Thanks for that," Steve said sarcastically.

"Shut up and let me finish my hero monologue! All of that stuff, and you're still the modest, quiet guy that you are. Not showing up here to tell us how it's done, or be the leader. Not doing it for the press. Doing it because you want to."

"It's literally and figuratively what I was made to do," Steve smirked.

"I've had guys die under my command too. Gone, because of me. It never does get easier. But if I keep fighting, I keep their memory alive. And I can see it in you. Every single person you've lost, you fight for them. And it shows."

"I really don't know what to say…" Steve trailed off.

"You don't have to say anything. How about we go get some food, get the debriefing, and prep for the mission?"

"Sounds good to me."

Both men stood up from their beds and pulled on their boots. On the way out, Kyle clapped a hand onto Steve's shoulder. "They'd all be proud of you, Steve. Every single one of them." Steve nodded and gave a small smile. He couldn't help but feel that Kyle was right.